Dark Stranger Immortal (The Children of the Gods #3)(27)

“Sorry, honey, as tempting as the offer is, I’m not allowed to sit with customers…” She leaned to wipe the table, offering him a glimpse of her ample cleavage. “It’s almost closing time, though. If you can wait, I’d love to, but I don’t take money for it…” she whispered throatily.

“The money is for information I need. It will only take a couple minutes of your time… though I’ll gladly take your offer for later,” Dalhu said quietly, his words coming out somewhat hissed.

She was a pretty little thing, and the thought of fucking her shoved against a wall behind the pub, with his fangs embedded deep in her neck, had his erection and his fangs throb and elongate in unison…

Yeah, that would be very nice… Dalhu readjusted his uncomfortably hard shaft in his pants.

Enjoying his heated reaction, she smiled at him brightly, then turned toward the bartender and lifted two fingers. “Okay, ask. You’ve got two minutes.” As she took the seat across from him, she leaned forward as if to prevent anyone from overhearing their little chat.

“I need the names of the most exclusive nightclubs in LA,” he said.

She looked surprised, probably had been expecting something more exciting, but he didn’t offer an explanation. It was none of her business.

Scrunching her nose as she tried to come up with the names, she looked cute and very young. Too young to be offering quickies to strangers behind the pub. The thought momentarily tugged at what remained of Dalhu’s conscience, only to be shoved aside. She offered herself freely, expecting nothing but pleasure in return.

Dalhu smiled a tight-lipped, cruel smile. That, he could definitely give her, and then some.

It seemed the girl found his nasty smile concupiscent. As the heady scent of her arousal wafted up into his nostrils, her nipples grew visibly taut beneath the flimsy fabric covering her breasts.

She shifted in her seat. “I heard talk about a club named the Basement.

Personally, I’ve never been there, nor has anyone I know. It’s way, way…

out of my league, or yours… Only the rich and famous go there, it’s not for regular folks like us.” She snorted derisively, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Why would you assume it’s out of my league?” Dalhu had taken offense at being bundled in the same category as her. She might be regular people, but there was nothing regular about him. He was one of the finest male specimens of a superior race; the progeny of gods. He wished he could show her. And maybe later he would, just to see her reaction before erasing it from her memory.

“No offense, honey, you’re gorgeous… But your Levis and Nikes don’t peg you as a potential customer for The Basement. These people wear thousand dollar jeans and designer watches that cost more than a new luxury car, not the imitation crap you’re flashing.” She snorted again, waving a dismissive hand at his Rolex.

“And anyway, you need an invitation from an insider or a lot of grease money to get in. And I mean; a lot of money,” she emphasized.

“I guess you’re right, it sounds like it really is out of my league. Thanks for the info.” He let his lips curve in a tight smile.

“No problem… sorry I wasn’t much help. It’s just that the clubs I go to aren’t fancy, they are for regular people. I could ask around tomorrow, maybe there are some nice clubs that are not that snooty.” She pushed up from her seat, hesitating for a spell. “Would you still wait for me? Closing time is only like half an hour away…” Waiting for his answer, she held her breath.

“Sure will, sweetheart…” He winked at her. She was pretty enough, and a free fuck was a free fuck. He was in no hurry.

Watching his little waitress cleaning tables and stacking chairs, he made his plan for the next day. He’d need to go shopping for the type of designer apparel she described and make a bunch of phone calls to see which of his contacts could get him into that club.

Having drug lords and arms dealers as business associates had its fringe benefits. They were exactly the type of people who would value the glamorous scene of a club frequented by the rich and famous.

After all, they happened to be some of the richest people around.

Dalhu grinned, feeling he was on the right track. He shifted to readjust himself again. His damned erection wasn’t showing any intentions of letting off, throbbing painfully in the confinement of his jeans. The thing was, he wasn’t sure if his hard-on was for the waitress or for his prey. Though, in truth, he had fucked a lot of pretty girls before, but he had never been as close to his coveted prize as he was now.

A little after three in the morning, the girl took her purse, waved the bartender good night, and walked out the door. Dalhu, the only remaining customer, pushed out from his seat and followed her out.

As soon as the doors closed behind them, he had her in his arms, kissing her hard. She moaned and clung to his shoulders as he picked her up and carried her to the alley behind the pub.

Finding a dark recess, Dalhu shoved her against the cold stone, and holding her up with a hand under her ass, pinned her to the wall with his body. Kissing her and licking his way into her mouth, he reached down the top of her flimsy blouse. One at a time, he pulled her breasts out of her bra cups and above the neckline. With both plump globes exposed and pushed up, he took a moment to admire the creamy white flesh, topped by lovely large nipples that were just begging to be sucked. Happy to oblige, he dipped his head, and taking one erect little nub between his lips, lashed it with his tongue.